


Witchy

by fhartz91, Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Series: Kurtoberfest 2015 [5]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Stepmother/stepson bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 03:48:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4945633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/fhartz91, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt comes home in a huff about Rachel, which leads to him and Carole bonding over a cup of tea.</p><p>Rare pair: Kurt/Carole (stepmother and stepson bonding)</p><p>Written for the Kurtoberfest prompt ‘witches’, but with a loose, more symbolic interpretation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Witchy

“I’m not here,” Kurt says, blowing through the kitchen door to Carole’s utter surprise.

“Wh---what?” she asks, her question stuttered when she races into the living room to keep up with her stepson. “What do you mean…”

“When the house phone rings, don’t answer it,” he says, “because I’m not here.”

As if they’re both in a Neil Simon play and those words were the stage master’s cue, the telephone rings. Carole looks up at Kurt, and Kurt looks back at Carole, wide saucer eyes begging her to let it go to the answering machine. The phone rings again, and the two of them stay still, stay quiet, as if a single noise might tip the caller off to the fact that they’re both standing in the living room, pretending that no one’s home. The phone rings a third time, and or some reason, both stepmother and stepson hold their breath, until the phone clicks over and the answering machine starts to play its recorded message.

“Hello,” Kurt’s voice plays back to them, “you’ve reached the home of the Hummels…”

“And the Hudsons…” Finn’s voice cuts in.

“We’re the Hudmels,” Carole’s voice adds with a laugh, and Kurt smiles. No matter what, Carole’s laugh has that power. And not just on him. He’s seen it work on pretty much everyone.

“Leave us a message after the beep.” That last part is his father. They couldn’t really come up with anything whimsical for him to say, so they left it at that.

“It’s Rachel,” Kurt whispers, again, as if the caller has the power to hear him through an unanswered phone.

“Kurt,” Rachel’s voice comes over the machine, “I’m so sorry. Please, call me back? We need to talk.”

“No,” Kurt says, sticking a tongue out at the machine, and Carole giggles.

“Bad day?” she asks, watching Kurt shed his messenger bag, his scarf, and his coat, finally beginning to relax.

“Yes,” Kurt says, carefully hanging up his coat in the closet by the front door.

“I’m guessing you probably don’t want to talk about it,” Carole says, watching Kurt’s face go from splotchy red back to his more normal fair complexion.

“Not just yet,” Kurt says, giving her a tired smile, “but thanks for asking.”

“Then, how about some tea?” Carole offers, holding out a hand and gesturing back toward the kitchen. “I just picked up a can of that leafy green stuff from Teavana you like. The one that smells like the flowers out front?”

“I don’t know,” Kurt says, even though a nice, hot cup of tea sounds wonderful right now. “It’s been kind of a long, disappointing day, and I’m really worn out.”

“And maybe a scone?” she says, not ready to take _no_ for an answer.

“You bought scones?” Kurt says, forgetting his objections and following behind her at the mention of his one favorite pastry on the planet.

“I _made_ scones,” she says, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table for Kurt and heading for the oven. “I’ve had them resting in the warm oven, waiting for you guys to come home.”

“Well, well, well,” Kurt says with a proud smile. “I’m impressed.”

“Kurt, you spent a whole weekend teaching me how to bake,” Carole laughs, putting a scone on a plate and serving it to him. “You made it kind of easy.”

“My mom always said there’s something magical about a kitchen warm with the smell of baking,” Kurt says, breaking his scone apart on his plate. Carole brings him his tea, setting it down in front of him in his favorite teacup and saucer.

“So, do you get your witchy-ness from your mother, or from your father?” she asks, sitting in the chair opposite him in case he wants to unload about his day.

“Hmm?” he murmurs, closed lip with his mouth full, inclining his head slightly while he chews.

“The phone call,” Carole says with a gesture toward the extension hanging on the kitchen wall.

Kurt swallows so he can answer. “Oh. That.” Kurt shrugs. “I just had a feeling,” he says, noncommittally. “In Glee Club today, she was just being, you know, _Rachel_ , so I turned off my phone.”

“Your timing was spot on,” Carole says, and Kurt shrugs again.

“Intuition, I guess.” He pops a small bite in his mouth and chews thoughtfully. “I’d say I get it from my mother. She was one of those people who just kind of _knew_ things, you know? The ones who remember everything you love. The ones who know all your favorite stories by heart. The ones who know just what you’re thinking, when you need a hug, or a smile, or a cookie, just by looking in your eyes.”

“Yeah,” Carole says with a sympathetic smile. “My mom and my grandma were the same way.”

Kurt nods, picking off another piece of his scone, but not putting it in his mouth. “And to tell you the truth,” he says, “until I met you, I never thought I’d meet another person like that.” Kurt lifts his eyes from his plate to see his stepmother looking back at him, kind green eyes watching him patiently. “I know I don’t tell you this enough, but, thank you. For marrying my dad.”

“Oh, Kurt…” Carole gets up from her chair and moves to the one beside him. She puts an arm around his shoulders, and he lets her, leaning over to rest his head against her shoulder. Kurt knew a long time ago that no one would ever replace his mother, not in his heart and not in his father’s. But Carole never had to. She’s her own perfect mother and wife, just the way she is. She made her own place, and no one could ever replace her, either.

“Then I have to thank you, too,” she says, putting a hand on his head and petting down his carefully tended hair.

“For what?” Kurt asks, rolling his eyes up to look at her face.

“For helping me,” she says, giving his shoulders a squeeze. “For looking at your father and me, and knowing that we’d be perfect for each other.”

Kurt bites his lower lip, feeling a little guilty considering his original motives, but it all turned out okay in the end. Besides, he was right about two things: his dad and Finn’s mom deserved happiness, and it brought him and Finn closer.

So close, it made them brothers.

“I’ll never know how you did it, kiddo,” she adds, kissing him on the head.

Kurt smiles to himself. “I just had a feeling.”


End file.
